The Lion
by Sehlki
Summary: Told from both Achilles' and Briseis' POV, it tells the tale of the two lovers both trying to move on...for Briseis believes Achilles to be dead. But the Fates have different plans for the lovers...they will meet again.
1. The Boatman

Author's Notes

Wow, so this is my first fanfic!!! EVER. I recently saw Troy for the eighteenth time and as always, the ending pissed me off. So, a story idea began bubbling in my mind. Eventually I wrote out the first chapter. Hope you like it. Reviews are _extremely_ welcome. :)

* * *

"**Paris, no!" **The desperate scream of his cousin would normally have pierced Paris' heart like an arrow. But not now. Rage bubbled within him, consuming him like a beast. He set his jaw, dark brown eyes almost black with fury. He looked at the pair of them. First, his fair, delicate cousin; tears were streaming from her usually carefree eyes, blotting out the life of happiness she had once had. And then there was _him_. The man who had so callously murdered his cousin Hector. Paris stared at Achilles, hatred pooling in his eyes. Staring at the mockery that glimmered in the brilliant blue of Achilles' eyes, he was blinded by rage. 

That was when Paris let the second arrow fly.

This one caught Achilles in the stomach, piercing the armor there. Stumbling, the Grecian warrior struggled to his feet, sword raised. Briseis fell to the side, sobs wracking her body.

"**No...! Please..."** She was begging him now, but as the sharp hiss of another arrow wrenched through her mind, she knew that it was too late...and as the third shaft pierced Achilles' chest, she let the tears fall freely. Achilles had finally collapsed to his knees after ripping out the arrows, leaving the one in his heel. Briseis scrambled to her feet, only to drop to her knees in front of the man she had grown to love. Cupping his dirty, sweaty face in her hands, she caressed him helplessly, sobs still sending her body into tremors.

"**Ssh...it's alright...** His words were barely more then a whisper, terse and tight with pain. She leaned her head forward, desperate to feel his lips against her. He met her kiss, yet not with the same ferocity as usual. It was gentle, almost chaste. Then he drew back, caressing her cheeks feverishly.

"**You gave me peace in a lifetime of war..." **The pain was blinding, and he could barely focus upon her beautiful face. Brushing a stray lock of dark brown hair back, he looked behind her, eyes focusing on Paris. His lips parted, and he wanted to tell Paris to save Briseis...but all he could do was gasp in pain as another wave crashed over him. The world spun around him, fading from black to gray...

"**Briseis...Briseis we must go."** Paris was by them now, hand on Briseis' shoulder. Yet still she clung to Achilles, agitatedly stroking his cheeks and face. Then, in a voice that was barely more then a whisper, and hoarse with pain, Achilles said,

"**Go."**

Everything else was a blur. Achilles remembered Briseis kissing him one last time before Paris dragged her off, remembered the way she looked at him. And then, as she disappeared around the corner, he remembered falling to the side, embracing the darkness that had fought so long to consume him.

* * *

He wandered. Up and down the River Styx, yet the Boatman would not let him onto the boat. No matter how many times he demanded passage, or asked to know why he could not pass through to the Underworld, the Boatman was silent. For days, Achilles remained on the banks of the River Styx, pacing back and forth. He lost track of days...lost track of the time that slowly seemed to be tick by. He gave up wandering the banks, slowly losing his will to live. There was no point. He was doomed...doomed to be dead, yet never rest. Was this his punishment? Would he be forced to walk the banks of the Styx till...there was no "till." He would be there for the rest of his life. 

There was no colour anymore...there was nothing. Everything was gray...but wasn't the whole world gray? Yes...there was no black and white. There were only different shades of gray. He collapsed onto the ground, staring aimless at the Boatman.

"**Please...just tell me why I cannot rest."**

His voice was tired, pleading. His blue eyes, once so brilliant and gleaming, were now dulled. Slowly, the will to live was leaving him, trickling out of him like the last few drops of liquid from a water-skin. He no longer paced up and down the River banks. He had given on all hopes of ever gaining eternal rest. Now all he wanted to do...was rest. Yet even in his death, it would seem that that gift was not to be bestowed upon him. Was this the curse of being only "mostly" mortal? Was that the reason? Would he simply wander the Afterlife for all eternity, simply because his mother had not dipped his heel into the River?

"**Please...let me pass."** The words came out as little more then a whisper. Then he closed his eyes, dropping his once proud head into his hands. And the only thought that passed through his numb mind was, _"Perhaps then she will not plague my thoughts as she does now. Please...by whatever gods there are...if I have done anything to you, offended you in anyway...just let me rest."_ He lifted his head, but no more words would come. He had said all he could say. He had reduced himself to begging – a feat that no mortal had ever brought him down to – and there had been no reply. He was finished.

Then he heard a voice, one that he thought he would never hear. It was soft and low, instantly filling him with a sense calm that he had believed would never fill him again...not after she had left him. But that voice brought his soul to rest, and he allowed himself to look up at the Boatman.

"**It is not your time."**

The words cut him to the heart, causing him to stand abruptly. He swallowed, forcing back the furious words that began to spill out of his mouth. Gritting his teeth, he stared at the Boatman. In a terse voice, edged with a desperate need-to-know undertone,

"**Then why am I still here?"**

The Boatman placed a worn and withered hand upon Achilles' broad shoulder, looking down on the massive Grecian with kind, gray eyes,

"**Because you were not ready to go back."**

Smiling, the Boatman stepped back. Clasping his hands in front of him, he bowed his hooded head and stepped back once more. This time, as Achilles watched, the gray world before him faded, blotted out by a brilliant white light that shone down from a crack in the sky.

* * *

"**He's awake!"**

The sharp cry sliced through Achilles' numb mind, and his eyes snapped open. He was covered in sweat, his muscled chest heaving with exertion, as if he had just emerged from deep water. His eyes were blazing with intense pain, his chest a mass of pain. But he was alive. His eyes fixed themselves upon the man standing beside his bed. _Eudorus._ The leader of his Myrmidons. He collapsed back onto the bed, overwhelmed by the pain that kept crashing over him in constant waves.

"**What...happened...?"** His voice was exhausted, each word heavy upon his tongue. Yet he needed to know. Needed to know what had transpired after he had collapsed. He shouldn't be alive. By all rights, he should have died that night in Troy. But here he was. And the pain that was currently coursing through his body...yes, that certainly told him that he was alive. But...why?

"**We...we found you there m'lord. At first we feared the worst, but then we felt you breathing...so we brought you back here. You were badly wounded...many of us believed that you would not survive."** Eudorus seemed ashamed to admit it, for he hung his eyes, pale blue eyes downcast. Achilles contemplated all that had been said, and then pulled himself into a sitting position.

"**How long was I unconscious?" **He asked the question quietly, completely unsure of what the answer would be. Eudorus answer came hesitantly, and it struck Achilles hard.

"**Almost three months m'lord. You drifted in and out of consciousness at times...but for the most part, you were within the shadow realms."** Three months. It shouldn't have taken that long to heal, for the arrows apparently had not hit any vital organs. And yet...yet...the twinge in his heel reminded him of the reason why his recovery had taken so long. Curse the heel...the part of his body that could kill him. Yet how then did he breathe the air now? It was a blessing. A blessing from the gods. No...no it wasn't. It was a curse. They were punishing him...punishing him with the cruelest fate of all: living without _her_ for the rest of his life.

Oh, he would remember. But never again would he feel her lips upon his...never again would he feel her caress his body...never again would they come together in the love-making. She was gone. Yet it was not her body that he longed for, but her spirit. The stubborn, fiery woman had emblazoned herself upon his soul...he would never be rid of her now.

"**M'lord?"** Eudorus' spoke hesitantly, sensing that his lord was drifting away again. Achilles lifted a long, lean hand, waving the men and Eudorus away. He needed time...time to regroup his thoughts. He had been given a second chance at life – he now needed to figure out what he was going to do with it.

Lying back down on the bed, he stared up at the tent roof. What would he do now? So much time had passed, and even now, he did not know where he was. Would he go back to being Achilles, the Mighty? Achilles, God among Men? Achilles, the Lion. Yes...the Lion. But even a lion loves his mate...even a lion has a life other then battle.

_The man was born to end lives._

Hadn't people said that about him? Was that not his destiny? Born to end lives. How many lives had been lost on account of him? Many. Yet there was no regret in his mind. And the realization of that made him breathe easier. He had not changed entirely...the love he had for Briseis had not caused him to fall away from all he knew. Achilles the Lion was still the prominent personality trait that ran through his blood. Achilles the Lover would be buried...buried under precious, yet painful, memories. It would never resurface again.

Then he fell into a deep sleep, and no longer did he dream of the Boatman.

When he awoke, the pain was a dull ache in the back of his mind. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself upright. Clothes had been laid out for him, as well as a basin of water. Inhaling deeply, the Lion swung his bare legs over the side of the bed.

He almost collapsed.

Pain shot through his injured tendon blindingly, causing him to wince. Pushing himself upright, he looked at his arms. Months of simply laying upon a bed had made him weak...too weak. Holding himself erect, he walked rigidly over to the basin. Or, rather, he limped over to the basin. For it was impossible not to...

His ankle was burning with pain as he finished dressed, the mere act of walking several feet having caused it to once again tighten and swell. Sitting down upon the bed, he stared at the tent wall. Fury gleamed in his brilliant blue eyes. He felt like an old man...a man who was done with life. For a moment, he almost sunk into the depression that clawed at his heart. But he did not. He would not let himself fall. For if he did, never again would he return.

Pain must be conquered...must be endured. Yet through years of fighting, Achilles had learned much about his body. He knew how far and long he could go without tiring. He knew his limits – and few those limits were – and he knew when he was beaten. It would take time to work his ankle back into shape...by the gods, it would take time to simply get back into shape. But time. That was the key word. Troy had not fallen in a day.

So the demi-god sat still upon the bed, studying the dark blue of the tent...and thinking of a woman who had once worn a gown of such a blue. His throat caught, and he hated the feeling. _"She's gone. Let her go. By the gods...this madness...I cannot call it love...but love it is. The passion controls me...I am her slave. Yet she is gone. Gone on to a new life. Will she have forgotten me? In all likeliness, yes. But perhaps, when there is no one around...she may remember. Remember the one night that we shared."_


	2. A New Life

_**Replies to Reviews**_

ChrissyKat – No, this is NOT a oneshot. :) I have every intention of continuing (and finishing!) this story.

Amester – Yeah, I noticed that whole "one night" thing after I wrote it. ;) And as for the bolding, I like it...like you said, it makes it easier to read.

Lazydoll06 – Wow! That makes me feel good about myself. Glad it caught your interest.

* * *

Briseis swore. 

Stopping in her task of gathering firewood, bending down to look at what had caused her ankle to receive a sharp jolt of pain. Not seeing anything, she cast a glance towards the heavens, and continued forward. However, another sharp jolt of pain caused her to cry out. Dropping the wood she had gathered, she sat down on a rock, glaring at her ankle. Then, bringing it up so that it rested on her other knee, she looked at the bottom of her sandal. She then saw the guilty party that was causing her pain.

As she drew the long, sharp thorn from the heel of her foot, she winced. **"Curse these thorns...even with sandals..."** She ran a finger along her foot, glaring up at the bright sun. Then she sighed, her brown eyes returning to her ankle. In a rush, all the memories she had tried to repress over the past three months came rushing back.

_He_ had been shot in the ankle. _He_ had been invincible everywhere...except there. _He_...he was dead. Briseis swallowed, brushing the back of her hand over her eyes to rid herself of the tears that were gathering up. She would not cry. Not anymore. It wouldn't do anything...wouldn't bring him back to her. She stood up, looking at the wood she had dropped to the ground. For a moment, she considered leaving it there. But then she made her way over to it, picking it up. She was resigned to her life now...

The weather was warm. It always was on the Island of Lathos. The gods had been good to the surviving Trojans by allowing them to find this place. It had taken a month's wandering to come upon it, and even that had been by mistake. Their ship had gone off course...they had crashed upon the island. And though it certainly was not Troy, it reminded Briseis of her homeland in some ways. The sun was brilliantly sunny, as if reminding her and her people that Apollo still watched over them. They were surrounded by the ocean, and sometimes Briseis would go down to the shores and sit there, her eyes closed. With the sun on her face, and the sound of the waves in her ears, she could pretend she was home.

To be sure, it had been hard at first. Seven out of the thirty-nine surviving Trojans had died...many had grown sick. And then there had been the sacrifices. The pure, Trojan blood had mingled with those of other cultures. Some of the men had taken foreign wives, and now...now there were forty-one of them. "Them" being the people who now lived upon the Island of Lathos. However, Helen had accepted the foreign women, and the Trojan women had followed her lead.

Over the months that had followed, Briseis had become close friends with the Spartan beauty. Though Helen was several years older, the age different provided no barrier. Perhaps it was because Helen was of a different culture, and had loved a forbidden love, that caused Briseis to turn to the blonde woman for comfort... There must have been something that drew Briseis to the woman, for Helen alone knew of Briseis' love for Achilles...

Briseis paused on a small hill that overlooked the tiny village that was her home. It had at first been rawhide tents, but now there were wooden houses, and a storehouse. Home was beginning to come together...yet without _him_, her world would never be complete. Sighing, she made her way down to the village.

A chorus of greetings reached the Trojan princess as she entered the village, and five small children ranging between the ages of four and seven ran up to her. **"I will take the wood, lady!" "Did you see a bear?" "Is not the sky blue?" "Mother says we can go swimming!" "I cut my finger."** The last comment made the Trojan Princess pause, and she handed the wood to the eager seven year-old boy, who dashed off importantly to carry the wood to the storehouse. Kneeling down, Briseis took the four year-old girl's hand and looked at it seriously. **"Well, you have indeed. And how did you manage it Desma?" **The little girl made her reply in complete and total seriousness, causing Briseis almost to laugh, **"The baby bit it."** However, she managed to remain serious and reply solemnly to Desma, **"What baby, Desma? There is no baby in the village."** However, as she stated that, the other children began speaking, **"Yes there is!" "Three of them!" "With claws!"**

Now completely bewildered, Briseis sighed. **"Babies do not have claws Adonis."** However, the six year-old boy replied in utter somberness, **"These ones do. All baby birds do."** Briseis stood up, eyes wide. A smile broke over her face, and she kissed the little boy on the forehead. Then, like a young child, she ran up the street as fast as her dress and sandals would allow her.

Stopping in front of ones of the houses, she knocked upon its door. For a moment, no one answered it. Then the door swung open, revealing Hagne, the village healer. She was an elderly woman, with kind green eyes and long silver hair. Her face was a mass of wrinkles when she smiled, and smile she did at the sight of Briseis.

"**Ah, come in, lady. The gods are certainly playful. The morning you leave, the eggs hatch."** Hagne's coarse voice did not vocalize the traditional greeting. She never did. Briseis grinned, stepping into the house. In the silence, a soft squeaking reached Briseis' ears, and her grin widened. Moving over to the nest of cloth and straw, the brown-haired Trojan princess peered in. There were three of them. Though still young, the chicks' eyes were wide open, sharp beaks opening and closing repeatedly. Briseis sat down beside the nest, thanking the goddess Artemis for the life given to these hawks.

One of the young men had found the falcon nest while exploring the island, and later, he and three others had gone back and taken the eggs. Briseis had felt sorrow for the parents of the eggs, yet if she and her people could train the falcon chicks to hunt as they grew older, they would have a good source of food. Each day, she had come to Hagne's house to look at the eggs...and now the chicks had come into the world.

"**How will we feed them?"** Briseis glanced over at Hagne, concern in her voice. The older woman gestured to the meat on the table. **"Very small bits of that."** Briseis nodded, looking back at the young birds, resisting the urge to touch one of their fluffy bodies. **"Have they been named?"** She glanced up at Hagne, brown eyes curious.

Hagne smiled, shaking her head. **"I thought you might wish to. I believe that the dark one and the light one are male, and the speckled is female."** Briseis looked back at the birds, pondering them silently before saying, **"The dark one shall be Apollon, named after our god." **Hagne lifted an eyebrow, making her way over to the makeshift nest. Gesturing to the lighter male with a withered finger, **"Should not the lighter one represent the Sun God?"** Briseis shook her head, smiling up at the elderly woman, **"No, dear Hagne, for little Apollon represents the fact that, even in our _darkest_ hour, Apollo did not abandon us. And the female shall be 'Delia' after Apollo's sister Artemis."**

Briseis' eyes lingered upon the last chick, who's fluffy feathers were a pale gold, like sunshine... Her heart skipped a beat, her memory returning to a man who seemed to have hair made of sunshine...eyes the colour of the ocean...and a smile that could make her catch her breath...

"**Lady?" **

Briseis glanced up at Hagne. The older woman was frowning slightly, curious as to why the brown-eyed princess had suddenly become so silent. Swallowing, Briseis pushed the memories back from her mind, focusing instead upon the last chick. **"Leontos. His name is Leontos." **Briseis sighed... How often had Achilles referred to himself as a lion? Many times...and he had not been the only one. In all the tales of Achilles that she had heard, he was always at least once referred to as "The Lion."

Standing up as more memories began sweeping over her, Briseis turned to the door. The dark room was calling forth memories that were too painful for her to remember...yet how she treasured those memories. As she pushed open the door, she turned over, glancing at Hagne. In the depths of the old woman's green eyes, Briseis saw slight worry. But she lingered no longer...instead, she walked out into the sunshine.

* * *

"**He's kicking."** Helen laughed softly, placing a hand upon her belly, looking joyously up at Briseis. The two women were sitting in Helen and Paris' home, weaving baskets. Scrambling over to Helen, Briseis glanced timidly up at the older woman, who laughed, **"Yes! Feel him! He is strong...strong like his father."** Briseis reached out and put her slim, tanned hand upon Helen's stomach. Sure enough, she soon felt a small kick. Giggling, she sat back and picked up her weaving, **"And you are sure that it is a he?"** Helen nodded, smiling peacefully, **"Yes...I am."** The blonde woman looked at Briseis happily, but then the happiness faded from her face. 

"**Cousin...what is wrong?"** Briseis glanced up, about to deny the accusation, but then simply sighed. What was the point of denying everything to the one person who would understand? She swallowed, setting down the weaving she had been working on. Chewing on the bottom of her lip, she stared down at the earthen floor for a moment before looking up at Helen, **"I cannot rid myself of thoughts of him. He is there...in the sunlight, in the ocean...I hear a man's footsteps, and my heart leaps, hoping it is him. A flash of golden grass, and I think of his hair. It is nonsense, I know. But I cannot forget."** Her voice quavered, and she sniffed, yet no tears would she allow to fall.

Pity for her cousin-in-law filled Helen's eyes, and she too set down her weaving. When Briseis had first confessed her love for Achilles, Helen had not known what to say. She could not be angry, for hadn't she loved another man that she should not have? Placing a hand upon Briseis' shoulder, Helen spoke softly, **"Do you so wish to forget?"**

Briseis sighed, **"No...for memories are all I have of him. And yet it hurts. My heart is heavy, and nothing can lift it. Everyone sees it, yet they believe it to be my longing for Troy. You are the only one who knows, my dear cousin. And I shudder to think of what anyone else would say...especially Andromache..."**

Silence reigned in the small house, for Helen had no words to say to that. Her presence and comfort was all she could give to Briseis now. For she knew what it was like to love, and believe any chance of happiness to be impossible. She knew what it was like to think of a man, and feel utter sorrow clutch at her heart. She knew...

Briseis stood suddenly, and Helen looked up. **"I'm going for a walk... I will return for the evening meal."** Helen nodded, smiling gently at her cousin. **"Go...and do not be afraid to remember." **

Briseis left the village as swiftly as possible. As she left the dirt path in favor of the surrounding field, she began to run. Gathering up her skirts, she simply ran. The impossibly blue sky had not a cloud upon it...there was nothing to shield her from the sun that bore down upon her. Sweat began to gleam upon her tanned skin, yet she kept going. She knew not where she went...and nor did she care. Each step was bringing her further away from the place that everyone she knew had begun to call home. To her, it was not home. It would never be.

Home was in _his_ arms.

* * *

Author's Notes

Ok, so this chapter is not my best, but I sort of like it. :) So, the Island of Lathos is an actual island in Greece, so I figured I might as well use it. Let's pretend that the island is uninhabited (except for the Trojans of course!) okay? Humour me. Also, the falcons mentioned are "Eleonora's Falcons" which is a species native to Greece. It actually prefers islands to mainlands, so I figure that it would make sense for them to be on Lathos. Anyway, here are all the Greek name meanings:

Desma: pledge or vow

Adonis: lord (or "my lord")

Hagne: chaste; pure

Apollon: form of "Apollo"

Delia: reference to Artemis' birthplace of Delos

Leontos: lion


	3. Attention Apology

Hey everyone,

Wow...it's been forever since I've been on this thing. I want to thank everyone who has stayed with the fanfic since I started it, and also to apologize for my absence for...well, a really long time. I was dealing with a family crisis, and it hasn't been resolved till this past week. But I'm back, and expect a VERY long update to reward you all for your interest, and your patience. :)

Yours sincerely,

SoxxGirl


	4. To Greece

_Author's Notes:_

_Well, here it is...the long awaited Chapter Three of "The Lion." Hope it's good enough for all you wonderful people who have waited for it with such patience. Let me know what you think._

* * *

The shriek of sword on sword rang out in the hot summer air, mingling with the grunting of men and the occasional caw from a crow. Other then those few sounds, there was silence, which was a rare occurrence in the Myrmidon camp. All eyes were focused upon two men who were fighting in the sand, sweat coating their lithe bodies. One was lightly built, with tousled dark hair and swarthy skin. He seemed slightly nervous about what he was doing, for it was clear that his attacks were not as strong as they could be. The other man was tall, and powerfully built, with golden hair falling to his shoulders and bronze skin. The former was Eudorus, second in command of the Myrmidons. The latter was Achilles, the Lion – the leader of the renowned Myrmidons.

Stepping forward, feinting to the left, and then dropping to one knee, Achilles swung his shield around suddenly, knocking Eudorus' blade to the side. Swiftly straightening, he swung the blade upwards, stopping centimeters from Eudorus' throat. For a moment, Achilles was still, studying Eudorus. Then, lowering the blade, he inhaled deeply, running the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had gathered there. He studied the other man for a moment, clearly frustrated with him, and himself. For a moment, he remained motionless. Then, with a quick, sudden movement, he drove his sword into the earth and released it, the pommel quivering ever so slightly.

"If Eudorus hadn't been holding back, who would have been the victor?"

There was silence, and all the men remained silent, glancing uneasily from one to another. Striding forward, Achilles scowled at them all, his blue eyes searching their faces. "Well?" He demanded, "Who? Tell me. Who?" More silence, and then Achilles whirled around, beginning to stalk away from them. However, he paused as one man's voice rose up into the air, "Eudorus, sir." Without turning around, Achilles barked out, "Exactly." He continued walking, calling back over his shoulder, "Stay near the camp. I'll be back at dusk."

Achilles could feel their eyes upon his back, but he refused to turn around. Keeping his eyes locked on the path ahead of him, he set his jaw, refusing to turn back, or slow his pace, despite the pain that was starting to creep up his entire leg. He didn't quite know where he was going – only that he needed to get away from them all. As the months had gone on, he had noticed only a bare minimum of improvement in regards to his fighting. The men were too frightened to beat him, so they would never step up to a sparring match. He needed a life-or-death situation to make him rise to the occasion. But a time of peace had fallen over the land, and there were few battles to fight, and even fewer wars to win.

He kicked a rock, wincing as the sudden contact shattered through his leg. Rage exploded within him – fury at his own incompetence...at his own weakness. He stared down at the ground, eyes sliding shut as he fought to regain his calm. He was Achilles...he was always in control. But this was something he couldn't stop...couldn't deal with. It was completely out of his control, spiraling away from him in an ever downward cycle.

He made his way through the small, tangled trees that surrounded the encampment, following a small path that maneuvered in and out of ditches, around boulders and through patches of shrubs and tangled bushes. He hated to be still, yet it hurt to move. Each step was now causing him to wince, but he forced himself to continue, jaw tight and teeth clenched. His body, usually loose and fluid, was tight as a bowstring, taut and worn. He felt tired if he stood for too long; he was in pain if he moved. It was as if his body wanted to just...give up. It was only through sheer will-power that he kept going, refusing to give up. Pushing a branch back from his face, he glanced up to see the great, vast ocean spreading out before him, almost blinding in the bright sunlight. He squinted into the horizon, but there was not one cloud to be seen. The insufferable heat, it seemed, would continue on for longer, challenging everyone to survive in spite of it.

Making his way over to a large rock, he clambered up onto it, and then sat down, tilting his face up to the sun. He let his eyes close, searching for the inner calm that he had once been able to find so easily. But now there was only turmoil. Everything within him was a storm, crashing and churning relentlessly till sometimes he could not even sleep at night. Sighing, he tried to focus on something other then this problems...something that would help him relax...to calm down.

And then he thought of her.

Of her smile, her bright eyes, her laugh, her gentle touch...he felt a clash of emotions suddenly sweep over him: a sense of peace, that always accompanied his thoughts of her; a sense of longing, wishing that he could be with her again; and a sense of fury that he was once again dwelling on the past instead of looking towards the future.

"Damn this," he snarled, pushing himself back to his feet and striding back the way he came. The bushes bit at his legs, tangling and seeming to try and hold him back. But he ignored them, and kept going. Each step caused him to grimace more and more, and by the time he got back to the camp, he was positively terrifying. The men, lounging about the camp, glanced up as he entered, and then immediately leapt to their feat, not wanting to stand at leisure while their Lord was in such a foul temper for whatever reason he had of his own.

"Get ready," he snarled out, not giving any of them a second glance. Eudorus cleared his throat, "For what, milord?" Achilles whirled around, eyes dark and furious, "We're going to Greece." "Now?" Eudorus was clearly skeptical, but as Achilles focused his furious gaze upon him, he shifted uneasily, "Yes milord...I'll get the men ready." He was greeted with only silence, and the tent-flap of Achilles' quarters.

In his tent, Achilles glanced around at the food that Eudorus had set out for him, and the way his sword had been cleaned and put away. Moving over to the blade, he wrapped his hand around the pommel, lifting it and testing its weight in his hand. It was uncomfortably heavy in his hand, and his hand seemed to shake with the effort of holding it erect.

The calluses on his hand had blistered uncomfortably during the fight, and they were red and raw. He stretched his hand out uncomfortably as he traced the lines of his arm, watching the muscles clenching and unclenching as he moved his arm up and down. "Damn this..." He murmured in annoyance, driving the sword into the ground angrily, and then whirled to stalk over to grab his maps and scrolls. Throwing them down onto the table, he sank down onto a chair next to the table, staring idly at the maps that he stretched out in front of him. His eyes traced the lines of Greece and its surrounding villages and towns.

He slowly began to unconsciously trace a route from the old Troy, trying to figure out where the Trojans might have gone. Then he snarled, slamming his fist down onto the table, upsetting a bottle of ink. As the inky black liquid began to pool over the maps and the table, seeping down onto his tunic and staining it a rich black. Muttering a thousand curses, he stood up and murmured under his breath, "Stop thinking about her."

It was getting ridiculous. He knew it was. He couldn't spend every waking hour thinking about her. It was pointless to think about someone who he would never see again. Even if she had survived the attack on Troy, and managed to get out of the city, chances were that she had gotten out by herself, or perhaps with one or two people. To survive alone in this land...it was nearly impossible for a woman. He sullenly stared at the wall while stripping off his tunic and tossing it to the side.

As he grabbed a different tunic, he yanked it over his head, and clasped a loose belt around his waist, striding back out of the tent and glancing around for Eudorus. The pale-eyed man soon approached Achilles, his eyes ready and expectant, "Yes milord?" Achilles glanced at Eudorus, "Are we ready?" "Not yet – some things still need to be prepared." The blonde man paused, stroking his jaw, he nodded, "Fifteen minutes. Then we leave."

Achilles made his way to the boat, running one hand over the worn, rough black wood. His eyes stared off into the distance, tracing the line of the blue horizon. The sound of the men preparing for the journey to Greece echoed in the back of his mind, mingling with the sounds of the sea and the gulls. He wasn't sure where they were going – all he knew is that he needed to go.


	5. Foolish Hope

Author's Notes: _Well, what with finals, Christmas, and then New Years, I've been really busy. Hopefully this new chapter will make you forgive me though. As per requested, I'll be putting in more Eudorus in the next chapter. If you have any thoughts or ideas for this interesting character, please let me know and I'll see what I can do. Also, if you could let me know what you think of the new characters I introduce in this chapter, it would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for staying with me. Any thoughts/ideas/suggestions for "The Lion" are greatly appreciated, as I'd like to involve you faithful readers as much as I can. Your reviews and ideas are a blessing - thank you so much for staying with me._

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The wind caressed the rugged landscape, causing the golden grasses that surround the Trojan village to sway and dance. The great expanse of the ocean stretched out to the horizon where it met with the sky, melding together to form one body. Nothing dotted the landscape except...except... Briseis straightened up from where she had been sitting on a sun-warmed rock, frowning slightly. Where there had been nothing before, there was now a black speck, swiftly growing closer. Standing up, Briseis brushed her hair back from her face and eyes, squinting into the sun to try and see the object better. It was definitely coming towards the island, and as it neared, she could see that it was a ship. This caused her to hesitate – if it was a ship that could bring potential enemies, she needed to warn the village. And yet...yet something pulled her towards the shore, and inescapable urge that beckoned and coaxed her to go towards the beach.

Throwing caution to the wind, Briseis made her way to the golden sands, looking out to try and see who these people were. Their ship was moving quickly, but in a jagged, uneven pattern, as if it were not being steered and rather, was moving by itself. A strong wind was blowing towards the island, and as it reached Briseis, it turned her dress into a rippling garment of pale blue, and sent her hair twirling around her face. She stood motionless, her eyes locked in suspended hope – a hope she dared not acknowledge – on that sail. That black sail. Black. Only one boat she knew of had a black sail. And, as it grew closer, she felt her heart beating quicker, and she tried to steady her breath as her eyes locked upon a figure standing in the bow, tall and proud...golden hair whipping back in the breeze.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. She found that she had shut her eyes as if to shut out her hopes lest they be dashed, and when she opened them again, the boat was nearly at the shore. She felt her heart crash as she surveyed the ship. It was badly damaged, and it was clear that nothing more could be done with it. As for the golden haired man...he was old, burly and bearded. But now another emotion had taken over her hope: fear. It sprang up in her, leaving her frozen to her position on the sand. Like a statue, she stood there, her mind screaming at her to run, but absolutely paralyzed. She wasn't even sure why. Images of dead priests in Apollo's temple – her brother's dead body – the carcasses of hundreds of men lying on the beach the day the Trojan beach was attacked. And now, watching the black sail come closer and closer...

Everything was fading. Sounds were dull roars in the back of her mind, and the feel of the warm sand had become as ice. Her dress was no longer soft, but coarse, rubbing against her whichever way the wind blew it. And colours were blurring, distorting, blending together to create one vague shape. Then, a sudden screeching noise brought her crashing back to reality, where the screech was really just the sound of the boat landing upon the beach, scraping against a rock. She lifted her eyes to look at the people on the ship, and the ship itself. It was small, with only one sail, and it seemed to be greatly damaged. There were no oar holes – rather, the oars stuck out over the sides of the boat, which rode very low in the water. It was about twenty feet long, and about seven people were in it.

The golden haired man she had seen was really pale-blonde haired, with gray streaks. He clearly came from the same land that Achilles had, however, for both men had golden hair, and blue eyes. Yet this man was old, and overweight. As he stepped off the boat, turning to help a woman who Briseis assumed to be his wife, he left deep footprints in the sand. His wife was a slender thing, with extremely long hair that was more silver then gray. Her eyes were dark gray as well, and they fixed themselves upon Briseis instantly, yet the lady herself said nothing. Then came four children of various ages, piling off the boat and over one another in joyful leaps, like a litter of puppies, clearly overjoyed to be on land once again. And last came a young man of about Briseis' age, if not a bit older. He was tall, almost as tall as Achilles had been, if not as tall. He had short dark hair – so dark a brown it almost seemed black – and tanned skin, like his mother's darker tone, and piercing black eyes that locked onto her instantly for a moment, surveying her suspiciously, yet quietly.

No one spoke.

By the expressions on their faces, they were as wary of her as she was of them. The younger children began to fidget, and Briseis caught their words, "Who is she mother?" "Is she a wild woman?" "Will she hurt us?" Without thinking, Briseis shook her head and said, "Oh – no. No, of course not." The blonde man frowned, and spoke hesitantly, as if unsure of her, "Do you live here?" Briseis nodded, "Yes, I do, with others as well. If you would like, I can bring you there." She paused, shifting uneasily in her place. The young man looked at her quietly for a moment, and then spoke to the blonde, older man, "Father, I believe it will be fine. And everyone is tired." Glancing at his son, the man nodded, and said roughly, "Thank you. We accept your invitation."

Turning around, Briseis slowly walked away from the beach, hearing their footsteps behind her. "I apologize for my father." A voice broke the silence, and she glanced up curiously, her eyes meeting the black eyes of the young man. Upon closer inspection, she realized his eyes were not black, or even a dark brown. Rather, they were a shadowy indigo hue, like the fine dresses she had once owned in Troy. Looking away, she said quietly, "It's fine. I understand what it is like to be constantly wary of those I meet."

At her words, he glanced at her curiously, but said nothing in reply. Instead, he merely fell into step behind her, talking quietly with his father. Briseis tried to keep from hearing, but her ears caught a few of the words they spoke. From what she heard, the young man's name was Jason, and he and his family had been attacked by a band of marauders as they journeyed from Greece to a nearby port. They had been in Greece? Her eyes lit up, and she almost turned to ask if they knew of a man called Achilles...but then told herself to not be ridiculous. He was dead. Gone. Foolish hope had caused her heart to suffer, but that tiny bit of hope was a wonderful thing. Still...it hurt.

As they reached the village outskirts, Briseis paused, and turned to look at them, "I ask that you leave your weapons here. My people have lived in fear for quite some time now – I do not wish them to be frightened by you." The father of the family began to protest, but Jason laid a hand on his arm, and spoke quietly, "Father...we are guests. We should do as she asks." He turned from his father, nodding to Briseis, "We shall do as you request." A fleeting smile stole across Briseis' face before she put it away, and she thanked him, waiting as Jason and his father disarmed, and then continued forward. She could feel eyes on her, all the people of her village staring in wonder and fear. Making her way to Paris' house, she took a deep breath, and then pushed open the door, "Paris...?" She called out, looking curiously around for her cousin.

Seconds later, the handsome man came out from behind a curtain, with Helen trailing in his wake. "Briseis," Paris began, "How are...who are they?" His tone was sharp and untrusting, causing Helen to lay a slender hand on his forearm. Briseis bowed her head, "They landed on the island. Their ship was attacked by raiders. They mean us no harm." Paris kept his eyes on the people in front of him as he replied, "And how do you know this?" "I asked them to disarm themselves before coming into the village. They obliged without question."

She had never seen Paris like this...not since he had...he had...shot Achilles. His eyes were cold, and his jaw clenched. He had been forced to grow up in too short a time, and now with the stress of leading the village, he had grown hard and seasoned. The playful, laughing Paris she had known was gone. Now he was taking on the role of King, no matter how small his land.

"My lord, may we not speak to them so we may see for ourselves what their intentions are?" Helen's soft, lyrical voice seemed to reach Paris, and he relaxed slightly, "A wise idea. Briseis, please take the woman and the children to the storehouse. Give them food and water. If there are no objections, sirs, we will stay here to talk." Jason and his father nodded their agreement, and as Briseis prepared to leave, Helen asked quietly, "My lord, may I go with Briseis? I do not wish to be in your way." Paris nodded, and the women left.

Helen immediately turned to the older woman, bowing her head respectfully, "Welcome to our small village, lady. I am Helen, wife of Paris. And this is Briseis, Paris' cousin." With a smile that reached her eyes, the older woman replied, "And I am Chara, wife of Demetrios, mother of Jason, Esdras, Kastor, Nicolaos and Iris. Now...we need not stand on ceremony any longer. Our husbands and my eldest child seem to be doing that enough for us all."

Helen smiled, "I would be glad of it. This is our storehouse – we recently ate our afternoon meal, and have yet to clear it away. There is much left over." The children, who were all thin, Briseis noted, ran to the food, hungrily eating it while Chara chided them gently before turning back to Helen and Briseis, "I did not know that anyone survived the burning of Troy."

Briseis stiffened, and asked quickly, "And what makes you think they did?" Chara smiled, once again more with her eyes then her mouth, "Dear girl...Helen of Troy is known for her beauty, and for the war. Paris is a prince of Troy. And you were a princess. Fear not – none shall know of your existence if you so wish it. My family and I will not tell anyone." Briseis relaxed, asking curiously, "Where were you headed?" "From Chalcis to Salamis. My husband wished to move to a richer land," Chara replied evenly, watching her children tenderly, "Thank you for all you have done. As soon as our ship is repaired, we shall leave you in peace." Helen smiled, putting one hand on Chara's arm, "Take all the time you need. Please. I'm sure Paris will not ask you to leave."

As if on cue, Paris entered, followed by Demetrios and Jason. The women looked up expectantly, and Paris smiled at Briseis, "As usual, you were right in saying that we can trust them. If you would be so kind as to show Jason and these children around the village, and then to Hagne's house, I would be thankful. Hagne has extra room in her house, and till we know how long Demetrios and his family will be here, I doubt she will mind having a few visitors. They can help her with the chores around her house."

Smiling, Briseis led Jason and the four tumbling, laughing children out of the house. They had not gone three feet when the Trojan children came up, extremely curious about the newcomers. Within minutes, they were off playing together, leaving Briseis with Jason. He was watching his younger siblings play, and remarked quietly, "They have no laughed like this in awhile. Times have been hard on them." Briseis nodded, "I pray that they will find peace and joy in our small village for as long as you are here."

Jason nodded his thanks, and they walked quietly down the street, with Briseis pointing out the few landmarks and buildings that stood out. He was quiet through the entire tour, and Briseis eventually fell silent, lapsing into a comfortable quiet. As they reached Hagne's house, the old woman met them at the door with a wispy smile, "I thought I would meet the visitors soon. But here I see only one, when seven passed by earlier."

Briseis smiled, "The others will come to you soon, dear Hagne. For now, I bring you Jason of Chalcis. If you permit, he and his family will stay with you till we can arrange for other living quarters." Hagne smiled her wrinkled smile, "I haven't had a strong young man in my house for years. Come in child, and see where you'll be staying." Briseis grinned, watching in amusement as Hagne showed Jason around, but the laughter faded from her face as Jason noticed the young falcons. Curiously, she watched as he reached down one hand, stroking Delia on her beak with one finger, crooning to her.

Frowning as he pulled his hand away, Briseis asked, "How did you manage to not be bitten? It is a feat that none of us have been able to succeed in." Jason smiled, and like his mother, the smile came from his eyes, "I had a falcon in my old home. I raised him from a chick, like these ones are. I learned the hard way about how to interact with them." Briseis nodded eagerly, "Perhaps you could help us with them, if that is the case. We wish to train them to hunt for us, but since each time we touch them, they bite..." she trailed off, smiling slightly. "Of course. We can start tomorrow, if you wish." Briseis nodded with another smile, "Tomorrow."

Hagne clapped her hands together, and made her way over to the table, "Now, all young men are always hungry. Let me feed you, Jason of Chalcis, for you will need your strength to keep up with this fleet footed dear." Briseis flushed, and bowed her head, "Jason of Chalcis, I leave you in Hagne's capable hands. I shall go and try to round up the children, and bring them here. More for you to feed, dear Hagne."

"Always more," the old woman chuckled, standing by her fire, the sweet smell of spiced meat already filtering through the house, "Always more."

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Author's Notes:

Since everyone liked it before when I gave you the name meanings, here the are again:

Chara: happiness // joy

Demetrios: he who loves the earth

Jason: healer // to heal

Esdras: help // he who helps

Kastor: hard worker

Nikolaos: victory of the people

Iris: rainbow // light


	6. Heard her Scream

_Author's Note: it's been awhile but I've decided to ressurrect this story. The following is just a teaser. More to come soon!_

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Eudorus watched as the blonde haired man at the bow of the boat. Achilles had neither slept nor eaten for two days. Eudorus bent his head slightly, calling an order to one man who was slacking at the oars before walking towards Achilles, keeping the appropriate two steps back from the massive blonde man. "Milord," he began hesitantly, only to stop as Achilles whipped his head around to gaze with dark blue eyes at the man. There was a quiet pause, the sound of rowing men and sloshing waves being the only sounds heard in the air. Achilles was silent as he turned his head to face back to the ocean, staring quietly at the dark strip of land that was the island of Lathos. It was an empty island, claimed by the Greeks yet never inhabited. He could see golden sea grass by the beaches and felt a sudden urge to go ashore. Something drew him to that island suddenly and inexplicably. He turned his head to fix his eyes on it, frowning slightly.

"Milord?" Eudorus ventured again, looking in confusion at his master. Achilles had never been one to lose himself in his thoughts and the distant, unfocused man unnerved Eudorus. It wasn't right. Silence seemed to stretch on even longer before he finally heard Achilles' deep voice asking, "What is on that island?" Eudorus watched as Achilles gestured to the island of Lathos with one impossibly large hand and then replied respectfully, "Nothing milord...it was never truly settled. Perhaps a few wild men...wild sheep." Achilles nodded once, his eyes still focused on the island. He felt that pull towards her. He bent his head, taking a deep breath before turning around to nod to Eudorus, "Then we continue on to Greece."

Eudorus nodded crisply, "I will inform the men. Is there anything else you wish?" He waited for any more orders, but Achilles shook his head once and then turned to stare back at the island. Eudorus frowned slightly but stared back to the stern of the ship. The men glanced up as they rowed, clearly checking to see if they were supposed to head towards the island. "We row on, men," Eudorus said calmly, opening the door to the lower decks and walking to his bunk room to fish out the old scrolls and maps that they'd need once they got to Greece. He had just located one of them when he heard Achilles' voice, loud, clear and most definitely bellowing.

"Eudorus!" The bellow came again, loud and shattered all semblance of quiet. Eudorus bound up to the deck again, looking around for Achilles. He saw the giant man pacing anxiously back and forth, his blue eyes fixed on the island. "EUDORUS!" He bellowed again and Eudorus came up swiftly with a quick, "Milord?" The face that Achilles turned to him was full of fire, determination and a deep gleam of something Eudorus couldn't identify. "I heard her, Eudorus." His voice was sharp and low, blue eyes narrowed, "I heard her scream." Eudorus stared at his lord, "Milord, who?" Achilles breathed in deeply, "Her." "Apollo's priest? The girl? Milord, where would she be?" Achilles shook his head, starting to resume his pacing, "She's there. On that island. I heard her scream. Eudorus, I heard her scream like she did that night in Troy." Eudorus gazed up worriedly at Achilles and started calmly, "Milord...the men...they're staring. You couldn't have heard her, milord...Troy was burned to the ground...women were taken as hostages...slaves. Milord, she –"

"Enough." Achilles' voice was sharp and Eudorus fell back. Shaking his head, Achilles glared down at Eudorus, "She's alive." Eudorus bent his head, "Yes milord." Achilles nodded, his eyes on the island, "We stop on Lathos."


	7. Moving on with Life

She screamed.

It tore from her lips like a screech of pain, shredding the silence that had fallen over the small settlement's evening hours. Drenched in a cold sweat, Briseis sat up, breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath but failing. Her hands had clenched so tightly into fists that little specks of blood had appeared from half-moon crescent marks in her palms. She had dreamed, as she dreamt every night, of that night when Troy had burned. Of the fire, of the screams, of arrows burying themselves in Achilles' chest. She hugged her thin, worn pillow to her chest, gazing out the window at the darkness of the night. She could see the moonlight on the ocean, faint ripples crossing the silvery white moonbeams. However, storm clouds were rising up in the horizon, blurring the light and darkening the already dark sky. She moved her legs over the side of the low bed, wrapping a thin robe around her shoulders and walking out of the small house.

Barefoot, she could feel the chill of the ground. Swallowing, she started towards the beach, mindlessly following the path she knew all too well. Even in the dark, she could find her way. Slipping on the soft sand of the beach, she ended up sitting down on it, pulling her legs close to her body and wrapping her robe tighter around her shoulders. She bent her head to the cool breeze that wafted over the beach from the ocean beyond, a shiver running through her body. The thin dress and thinner robe did nothing to keep her warm against the chill of the night air.

She was struck by a sudden warmth as someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and she looked up in surprise. Jason, the son of the family from Chalcis, stood behind her. It had been three weeks since they came to the Trojan refugees' village and Jason had become a friend. He was warm, compassionate, friendly and caring. The children loved him and he had been a great help with hunting and raising the falcon chicks. Several of the young women had fallen for him, and gazing up at his tall, handsome form in the moonlight, Briseis could understand why. She blushed at the thought, turning her head down away from him. She heard him sit next to her and chanced a glance over at him – he was smiling at her, a warm smile that caused a faint flush of color to steal over her cheeks.

"What brings you out tonight?" His voice was low and gentle, seeming to be concerned for her. She moved a lock of hair behind her ear, not sure what to say. How could she tell this man that she was still plagued by nightmares of a man she had loved and then seen killed?

"It's nothing," she replied faintly, bending her head slightly, "Nothing at all." Nothing, save for the memories that still haunted her. She could still remember the first time Achilles had kissed her...the night she had tried to kill him. It was laughable now. He had pressed forward against the knife she had held to his throat and she had surrendered her virtue to him. No man would want her now. She was jolted out of her thoughts by the feeling of a warm hand sliding over hers and she glanced down to where Jason had moved his. Slowly looking up at him through her long lashes, she made a move to pull it away, but his fingers wrapped firmly around hers and she lost the will to move it. Perhaps this was merely him comforting her...perhaps it –

"They've told me what happened in Troy..."

His voice was still calm and quiet, but it made her catch her breath and look away, pulling her hand from his. He moved closer, lifting his hand to gently brush hair back from her face so he could see her, and she turned her head away, trying not to hear the words he was speaking to her.

"Briseis...he's gone. This man you loved is gone...but if you give me a chance... My family has not been here long, but you have captured me..."

She shook her head, but he left his palm against her cheek and continued, "Briseis...perhaps it is time to let go...and to let someone else in. You cannot be alone forever... He wouldn't want that." She shook her head again, trying to disregard what Jason was saying. But loneliness was daunting. Intimidating. Frightening... She slowly lifted her head up to look at him and found that he was leaning towards her. His eyes were on her lips and she realized just before it happened that he was going to kiss her...

She let him.

The feel of his lips against hers was different then Achilles' had felt... Jason was gentler, his face wasn't stained with the blood of her country people... She hesitantly let him kiss her, tensing slightly when she felt his hand against her cheek.

"You are trembling..." His voice broke the silence and she looked up at him shyly, not sure what to say. He stood up, holding his hand out to her and she took it slowly, vaguely noticing how Achilles' had been so much larger and rougher. Standing up when he encouraged it, she began to walk slowly with Jason back to the town. Glancing over her shoulder, she thought she saw a ship on the horizon, rocking on the roughening waves but dismissed it from her mind and merely as wishful thinking. She looked up at Jason, wondering if this was what her life was going to be. A gentle man, a quiet man...

A man who wouldn't seek revenge, glory, death...

Perhaps... She looked up at him, seeing him gazing down at her with a hopeful look in his eyes and she let a small smile slide over her lips. He smiled down at her and she bent her head again. The walk back to the village seemed to take longer than usual and once she was back in her house, she felt uneasy. Touching her lips, she lifted her eyes to the heavens, saying a silent prayer to the gods.

* * *

The next morning, she woke early and made her way to Helen and Paris' house, knocking quietly on the door and stepping in when a sleepy Paris let her in. Going to sit next to Helen, who was sewing a pattern onto a pillow, she tucked her legs up beneath her and said quietly, "Jason kissed me last night."

Helen's face first registered shock and then delight as she exclaimed, "Briseis, that's wonderful! Are you – are you not happy?" She looked at Briseis curiously, who was playing idly with a strand of thread that had been leftover from the pillow's stitching. Briseis sighed, glancing up, "I don't know, Helen. I ought to be. He is a fine young man...a good man. But..."

"But?" Helen probed gently.

"He is not –"

"Achilles?"

Briseis nodded and then buried her face in a pillow with a sound of frustration and hopelessness, "Why can I not move on, Helen? Why can I not forget him?" She hit the pillow out of annoyance and looked up, "Jason is such a good man, and I do not want to be alone...and yet –" She broke off, looking at Helen, who was trying not to laugh. "What, Helen – pray, tell me why you're laughing! This isn't funny!"

Helen smoothed her hand over her pregnant stomach, "Because you are the only woman who would be upset about having such a fine young man fancying you." She tried not to laugh, sobering up due to the way Briseis was glaring. Leaning forward and putting a hand on Briseis' knee, "My dear Briseis, you must let yourself be happy." Briseis sighed, "I am trying..." She pushed hair back from her face, searching for a new topic and landing on that of the storm of last night.

"Do you know," she began, her tone light, "I do believe I saw a boat on the ocean last night before the storm picked up. This morning, however, it was gone...I suppose it was just a mirage or something."

Helen nodded demurely, continuing to stitch, "Most likely for the best – a boat could mean enemies and we're not yet strong enough to fight off any attackers."

Briseis nodded with a sigh but in agreement, "Yes, but I couldn't help see black sails..." She made another annoyed sound, "I must be leaving... I hope you and the baby are well, though I will stop by later – I can't seem to sit still today."

With that, she stood up and started down the path between the houses. Her sandals were scuffed, she noticed, as she walked along the dirt path. Little clouds of dirt rose up from her feet as she walked quickly, heading towards the beach. She heard children laughing around her as they woke up and shook her head slightly with a faint smile – at least they were happy. And why should she not be? She kept walking till she arrived at the beach, sitting down on the sun-warmed sand. Reaching down to her sandals, she slid them off her feet and then proceeded to bury her feet in the sand with a content sigh. Her eyes skimmed over the skyline where sky met ocean. In the distance, she could see another island and beyond she knew was Greece. Yet there was no sign of any ship.


	8. Opposite Directions

_Author's Note_: _So sorry for the delay! I recently moved and it was pretty chaotic. Thanks for everyone who's stuck with me and the story! Expect more regular updates now!_

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The sound of waves crashing against the shore was the first thing Achilles heard when he woke up. He kept his eyes closed, however, not wanting to wake up to the reality of the situation. The night had been a long one – the storm had risen up too fast, knocking them off course. During the night through the storm, visibility had been absolutely nothing and when the sun had risen and the storm clouds had rolled away, they had been by the coast of Greece and had had no choice but to land. Now, waking up in the hastily constructed tent, he felt a sense of hopelessness. Were the Fates to continue to push him towards Greece? Was this his destiny? He stood up, pushing blonde hair back from his face and moving outside of the tent.

He could see his men milling around, all of them clearly relieved to be on land again in Greece. Yes...Greece. He dressed slowly, wondering where they were supposed to go now. There had been relative peace which meant no fighting. He longed for a fight – the bloodlust in him only tamed for a short while. Love had its place, but he had been created by the gods to fight their wars on earth. His eyes drifted to his sword...it had gone unused for too long. He strode out towards the men, relishing the way all the men snapped up to look at him. They were hanging on his every word. Over the past few weeks, he knew he had been unstable and disoriented. No more.

"We will go to Ithaca." His voice was sharp and hard, his jaw locked and tensed. He needed a way to break this curse over him now. Oh, love was a curse in his eyes. He could not help but hate the way he longed to see Briseis' face while knowing he never would again. "There we will take the time you all well deserve to rest till our services are needed." The men nodded slightly and Eudorus barked orders for them to begin packing up their supplies. Walking towards Achilles, he stood quietly by his leader's side, pale eyes fixed on the men as they milled around him.

"You wish to say something, Eudorus," Achilles said in a low voice, devoid of most emotion. It wasn't a question, more of a statement. "Please, you have never hesitated to speak your mind to be before...do not refrain now." Eudorus nodded slightly, glancing down at the ground before saying, "There has been talk amongst the men about how you reacted to that island. One man said that he feared you were hearing voices...the implication was that you were going mad."

Achilles' eyes darkened, the brilliant azure color darkening to a wrathful shade. Eudorus stepped back, saying quietly, "I believe it was Henoch..." A nod from Achilles was the only response Eudorus got. The massive blonde man strode forward towards Henoch. The shimmering quiver of a sword being drawn from a sheath alerted all the men, all of them straightening up instantly. Henoch looked up, eyes widening and causing him to stumble back when he saw Achilles coming towards him.

The sudden crunch of bone was the first sound the men heard after Achilles swung the hilt of his sword into Henoch's nose. The man fell back to the ground, clutching his nose as blood streamed down from it. Lifting his foot, Achilles planted it on the man's neck, pushing down hard and cutting off the oxygen from flowing into Henoch's lungs. Lowering the sword, Achilles, ran the blade down Henoch's arm, pressing it in deep enough to leave a thin ribbon of blood trickling down the man's arm.

"You believe me to be insane, Henoch?" The low gravel of Achilles' voice was the only sound other then Henoch's heavy, pained chokes for breath and that of the birds who dared to sing. Achilles dug the blade into Henoch's other arm, an identical stripe of sliced, blood stained skin forming. "You are a fool." He lifted his foot, turning away to look at all the faces around him. They were all watching him, no sign of fear in their eyes. Oh, this was the leader they knew...yet not entirely. Why was Henoch to be left alive after daring to assume that Achilles was insane? Such a thing should surely mean death. However, Henoch struggled to his feet, pain emblazoned on his face from the identical cuts that ran from his shoulders over his arms and forearms to the back of his wrists.

"The gods have decided that we come to Greece!" Achilles yelled, his deep voice commanding everyone's attention. "But it is we who decide our own fate! If you feel like I am not fit to be your leader, step forward now and walk! Leave this place and turn your back on me! For I say to you, if you do not trust my words and decisions, then we are not effective. So who among you will leave? Who!"

The men stirred uneasily, now looking among themselves to see if anyone would take that fateful step forward. Their eyes shifted from Henoch to Achilles and then one man stepped forward. Before his second step had even fallen to the ground, Achilles had moved forward with the liquid grace of a large cat and plunged his sword up between the man's ribs, twisting it viciously. The blade tore through skin, flesh and fractured bone while piercing lungs and heart. Wrenching the blade from the man, Achilles lifted his eyes to the men, blue gaze narrowed, "Anyone else?" No one stepped forward.

Ignoring the dead body at his feet, Achilles turned and started back to his tent. As he passed Henoch, the man started to thank Achilles for sparing his life, but was silenced as Achilles' already bloody sword slashed his throat. Clutching his throat, Henoch dropped to his knees, gurgling gasps for breath coming from his throat as blood ran from between his fingertips.

Eudorus watched the proceedings calmly, glancing over at Achilles with a nod before walking forward and starting to toss out the orders. The men obeyed, none of them daring to look at their leader. Achilles packed his things quickly and then strode to the boat. Standing on the bow of the ship, he gazed out over the sea and then down at his bloodied blade. Already he could feel himself slipping back into the patterns of his old life...this was a good thing. In his old life, he could forget.

* * *

Briseis was laughing today. It was a hot day, the sun beating down about the island of Lathos. She and several other girls had walked out to the beach and down it a ways to a secluded part, hidden by large black boulders. There they had stripped down and went into the water. Briseis loved the water, loved the way the cool liquid felt as it rippled over her bare skin. She tossed her brown hair back from her face, delighting in the salty coldness of the ocean as it crashed around her in subtle waves. Her eyes were bright for the first time in a long time, it seemed. Two weeks had passed since Jason had kissed her and in the time that had passed, he had done it many more times.

"So how is your man today?" Aoide's teasing voice caught Briseis' ears and she laughed, splashing the other girl, "I don't know what you're talking about!"

Aoide ducked the splash and nudged her sister, Elpis, "Did you hear that, sister? She doesn't know what I'm talking about."

Elpis laughed, "But her face is so red! Surely she must have some idea."

Briseis couldn't help but laugh again, shaking her head and sending other splash towards the incorrigible pair, "Be quiet! I have no man! And if you're talking about Jason -"

She was cut off by another wave of laughter from her friends and gave up defending herself, choosing to submerge beneath the crystal blue waves and surface, letting the water run down her cheeks and over her shoulders as she grinned over at them, "I think you are just jealous. Both of you."

Aoide giggled, "And why wouldn't we be? You have the handsomest man on the island dogging your footsteps. He's devoted to you. Like at supper two nights ago when he brought you those flowers. He must have looked everywhere for them."

Elpis was overcome by a fit of laughter, "Paris' face was priceless. I do believe he thought you would die an old maid. As your guardian, he never expected to have to deal with suitors."

Briseis swatted water at the pair, still grinning, "He'll have his own concerns once that babe of his finally decides to be born. They'll have to name him Arrostos, for his patience in not coming out." The girls started to laugh again, but broke off when a voice cut into their laughter. Little Desma was standing on the beach, looking at them with expectant eyes.

"I was told to come get you – the afternoon meal is soon to be served." The little girl giggled, "And Briseis, Jason wishes to speak to you."

Briseis grinned, trying to ignore the laughter and teasing from Aoide and Elpis as she got out of the water, "Thank you, Desma. We will be along shortly." She wrapped her robes around her body, letting the sun dry her as she twisted her hair back up into a high bun to keep the water from running down her back. The sisters also got out of the water and together they walked back along the beach. As they neared the village, a broad shouldered, dark-haired figure walked towards them. Aoide and Elpis grinned at Briseis and went on ahead.

Jason came along side Briseis with a smile and she smiled up at him, "Surely you should have waited till I had time to dress and do my hair properly. I'm still all wet." Her words caused Jason to laugh and he said with a smile, "You'll always be beautiful to me, even if your hair is bedraggled and your clothes damp." He paused, rubbing his jaw and looking down at Briseis, "I need to ask something of you, Briseis, and your answer would make my happiness complete."

At this point, Briseis was sure that she should be blushing, but no red color came over her cheeks and her heart didn't beat quickly. She instead looked up at him, waiting for the inevitable, something she had been preparing herself for.

"I love you, Briseis," came his gentle words, "And when my family leaves this island, I would be honored if you would come with us, as...as my wife."

Briseis looked down, her eyes fixed on the sand as she walked. Why prolong both their anguish if she had already made up her mind about what she was going to say? Lifting her brown eyes to him, she parted her lips to give him the answer she had decided upon...


	9. Finding Love

_Author's Notes: Eeee, we're getting close to some big stuff happening! Thanks to all my incredible reviewers. This started out on a whim and now it's evolved into something so much bigger! I'd love to hear your thoughts on what's going on with it and stuff! I'll update soon!_

* * *

Lounging in Odysseus's throne room, Achilles looked around at the general splendor. The wide windows opened up to the large bay that formed a safe harbor for all ships that sailed to the island. He could see his own black-sailed ship in the harbor, rocking lightly in the wind, but felt no longing to go back to it. Usually he was drawn to travel but at the moment he merely wanted rest.

Dressed in robes of dark sea blue, he felt clean for the first time in awhile. His golden hair was brushed and softened, his skin cleaned. Straightening up from where he was leaning against the window bay, Achilles walked towards Odysseus.

"My men appreciate the rooms...and the women." He laughed shortly, his long strides carrying him towards Odysseus sat in his throne. The King of Ithaca was taking a sip of wine and let out a hearty laugh, "Anything for you, my friend. But why have you not indulged in all the pleasures of my fair kingdom? Surely there is a woman tempting enough to satisfy you."

Achilles laughed and shook his head, reaching the table before the throne and picking up a few grapes. "My tastes have changed, old friend." Odysseus nodded and straightened up, "Faithfulness...a good trait. My beloved wife, Penelope, also displayed such traits..." A smile touched his lips and Achilles laughed, "Yes, I hear your journey home from Troy was not as easy as you hoped...Odysseus had his own odyssey, the people are saying. Tell me; was the journey truly as hard as they all say?"

Odysseus let out a barking laugh, "A damned hard journey. Months and months of the gods alone knows what...men trying to come in and marry my Penelope. But she and Telemachus were strong. Warriors." He smiled broadly, his dark eyes warm, "A family, Achilles...they're a man's true heart. And the truest test of his bravery!"

Shaking his head, Achilles plucked another grape with a smile, "You seem well and glad to be home though."

"That I am. That I am." Odysseus smiled and stood up from his throne, "I thought for sure I had seen the last of you. Rumor had it that you died in Troy." He walked towards Achilles, clapping a hand on his back, "But now here you are. There is no great war to fight...what does the mighty Achilles do now other then lounge around the King of Ithaca's court, drawing all the ladies' attention to him?"

Achilles smiled and popped the grape into his mouth, "I have my own quest, Odysseus. I just have to hope that I may one day see its end, for I will not rest till either I am dead or I have succeeded."

"Strong words. What could be pushing you to such great lengths?"

"Briseis. The woman from Troy." Achilles smiled faintly, "You speak of a family...I've never been the type to want one, and by Zeus himself, the thought of a child terrifies me more than the thought of war...but I want Briseis back, Odysseus."

Odysseus was quiet for a long moment and then suddenly burst out laughing.

Achilles' features instantly darkened and he twisted around to look at Odysseus, "You're laughing at me? I tell you something that matters to me, that I'm in love with a woman and you laugh! She's gone, Odysseus and I can't find her!" He was bellowing now, fury in his every feature.

Still laughing, Odysseus waved off Achilles' rage. Many people would have been cowering in the shadow of Achilles' wrath, but Odysseus was used to his friend. So after finally stifling his laughter, Odysseus smiled broadly, "Achilles, you're in love and want to get married. You, who once scoffed at all things in regards to that." He settled down and smiled again, "We'll find your Briseis, Achilles. Fear not."

Achilles sighed, calming and turning to look back at the ocean, "How? The Trojan refugees have fled...among them the prince of Troy. They will be in hiding and I have no idea where to look." He wouldn't let despair take over but he recognized the sinking feeling that was slowly creating an ache in his chest. He sighed. He hated this weakness and talking about Briseis only made things worse. He rubbed his newly clean-shaven jaw and leaned back against the wall. "She's gone."

Odysseus walked over to Achilles, quiet for a moment as he gazed out the window. "We'll find her. Don't worry, old friend. We'll search the smaller islands around Troy. It makes sense that they would go somewhere such as that. Rest easy for now though. She won't be going anywhere."

Another sigh and Achilles ran his hand down the smooth stone of the wall. "You make it sound so simple. I'm not supposed to be this way, Odysseus."

"No man is. But that's what love is."

* * *

The water sloshed against the boat, lapping harmlessly against the bow as the small ship cut through the waves. There was a gentle breeze, enough to push the boat forward underneath the warm sun that beat down upon all those beneath. The clouds seemed to have disappeared over the horizon leaving the day a hot one with little shade. Briseis sat near the bow of the ship, staring forward quietly. It had been two weeks since her departure from Lathos, from everyone she knew and loved. Perhaps that was the only way to ever move on with her life...and Jason had promised they would go back one day.

Jason. Her husband. If marrying him had been the right choice, why did the words husband and wife taste so bitter upon her tongue? The wedding had been a small one, for she had not wanted to draw attention to it. Most had been excited for her, but Paris had pulled her aside before the ceremony and bent his head to hers.

"Are you sure about this, Briseis?" His voice had been soft and gentle, his eyes full of questions. She had barely been able to nod before pulling away from him. The gods had blessed their wedding day with sunshine and birds had sung. Good omens. That's what everyone had said.

Then had come the wedding night before they left Lathos. Jason had been good and kind and gentle, and after it was done she had laid next to him in their bed with his arms around her. His sleep had come swift and easy; hers hadn't come for hours. Compared to the way Achilles had made her feel, this intimacy was something very different...

Achilles' body had been broader, his blue eyes shining even in the dark. His hand had slid between her trembling thighs, fingertips oddly gentle as if he knew that this was the first time she had ever been with a man. As his lips had found her neck, his fingers had run against that wet heat between her legs and she had gasped. His lips had moved from her neck to her breasts, which were bare from when he had pushed the fabric of her dress up and over her head. The sensations he had sent through her then were delicious, heat spearing through her entire body. Achilles had been a dazzling sun, heat and passion. Jason was a warm spring rain...pleasing, but nothing special.

"Briseis?" A gentle voice cut through her thoughts and Briseis looked up swiftly at her new mother-in-law.

"Yes, Chara?" She smiled a bit. The woman was a kind-hearted soul, firm in her beliefs and despite the strength of her husband, somehow seemed to be the one who ruled the clan. Demetrios and his wife seemed to have a strange understanding – they saw each other as equal, quite different from how most marriages were run.

"We will be landing soon. Our home is near the ocean; Jason says you love the ocean."

Briseis smiled and stood up, glancing towards the shore of Ithaca, ruled by King Odysseus. She had heard of the wise king and knew he had been one of the kings who led an army against Troy. It was strange how she once would have fled from the very mention of this man...and now she was coming to his homeland. "It sounds lovely."

Chara laughed softly, "It is. We live near the royal palace – our house is built among many around the bay that the king himself looks over. My husband serves our king well as one of his advisors...we were attacked by raiders while returning home as we told you at our first meeting..." She smiled, "we will be welcomed home, as will you as our son's bride."

Briseis was, in truth, startled to hear this. "Then when you said you were leaving Chalcis, going to Salamis...it was a lie."

"Yes, my dear, I am gravely sorry for this. We were not sure who we could trust...we could not risk your people taking my Demetrios hostage."

Her head was spinning – had she unwittingly married into a rich family? A wealthy family of recognition and power? "Well then..." Briseis trailed off in bewilderment.

Chara's lyrical laugh filled the air, "My dear, we know of your history, how you were one of the royalty of Troy. You will be elevated back to a station like that one, though perhaps not quite as high. Still, I assure you, you will be happy with our Jason."

Briseis smiled – oh, would she ever be truly happy again? "Yes, I'm sure I will."

The ship rocked gently as it docked and the call of men rose up. Briseis looked around in awe of the landscape around her.

Everything was rich and green. White sandstone rose up from thick rock and deep green trees. The bay they were docking in was crystal blue, incredibly clear. It was one of the most beautiful places she had seen. A rocky outcropping stretched out over the water, a high cliff above a dazzling blue ocean. In a place like this, who knows...perhaps she would be happy after all.


	10. A Sparring Match

_Author's Note: a quick update for everyone! This next chapter will probably take a couple weeks since I'm gonna be a bit busy so I wanted to give you all something to read over and think on while I write up the next one!_

* * *

Achilles first noticed brunette girl five days after his talk with Odysseus. He had taken to looking out each morning at the bay from his balcony and usually he saw the same sight. In the early dawn, there was never anyone there. Just the still, flat glassy surface of the crystal blue water and white sand...the faint rustle of the trees from the morning breeze...the dappling of the sun and the call of the gulls. It was so peaceful and never disturbed by human interference. However, on the fifth morning, there had been someone standing in the shallow waters of the bay.

He straightened up and gazed down curiously. It was a young woman, her deep brunette hair swirling around her while she waded in the water. She was dressed in a deep indigo dress with a lighter blue sash around her waist, displaying her hourglass figure. Her skin was a warm brown color, her arms bare and slender. She looked like a sea goddess risen from the water. As Achilles watched, she bent down and splashed some water on her face while tossing back her hair. His breath caught in his throat as he watched – how many times had he seen Briseis make that same action?

Perhaps –

He forced himself to stop thinking and to keep from getting his hopes up. Instead, he just watched as the girl waded through the water, clearly at peace with herself and her surroundings. He watched her every morning after that. It couldn't be Briseis – every morning after awhile, a young man would come up to the girl and kiss her, hold her hand. But still, when he saw her alone, he could picture it being Briseis. And his imagination and memory was all he had.

True to his word, Odysseus had ordered men to search the islands surrounding Troy but so far there had been no results. Every island that came up as empty was another blow to Achilles and he felt like he was slowly losing faith in the search. He longed instead for battle, for war. He craved something to take his mind off everything happening around him. His mornings were spent in the palace, speaking with Odysseus. His afternoons were spent training his men or with Odysseus. It was all he had.

He left the window when the young man joined the girl wading in the bay. He didn't want to see a happy pairing. His steps were brisk as he started down towards the courtyard. Again, he was alone. He was getting used to being alone. But today he was not going to be alone.

As he entered the courtyard, he heard laughter. Glancing to his right, he saw the young woman in the blue dress disappearing around a corner and for a fleeting moment, he felt a sense of recognition. Then he was distracted by the young man who walked into the courtyard. Their eyes met and oddly enough, Achilles felt a sudden sense of hostility and a look of shock emanating from someone he believed to be a perfect and complete stranger.

Achilles' eyes narrowed and he barely inclined his head in greeting. The stranger didn't even acknowledge his presence after that one hate-filled gaze. Achilles was used to having people dislike him, but he had been hailed as a hero of Troy, yet looking at this man you would have thought otherwise.

"So..." The stranger spoke, his voice even but clearly fighting to stay so, "The mighty Achilles survived Troy."

Frowning slightly, Achilles nodded, his body already tensed. His temper was never long suffering and this antagonistic approach from a complete stranger was quickly setting off that temper. He drew his sword slowly, contemplating how easy it would be to run the man through. A smirk traced his lips – ah, now that was a pleasing thought. "Yes, I survived Troy." He spun the sword and then turned around when he heard the voice of the man again.

"Do you need a sparring partner?"

Achilles laughed shortly, "I doubt you would be able to match me."

The stranger arched one black eyebrow and shrugged, "Perhaps." He wandered over to the weapons rack that stood in the courtyard for training purposes. Picking up a sword, he glanced over at Achilles, "I'm the one who will get hurt if I cannot match you, so really, why should you worry?"

Rubbing his jaw, Achilles nodded though still looked amused. "Very well." He turned to face the dark-haired stranger, sword at ready. He was still unnerved by the hate in the other man's eyes but at the same time, it only fueled him on, though he was sure this would be an easy enough battle.

He struck swiftly, bringing the sword down hard. However, to his surprise, the stranger parried the blow and then struck one of his own. The clash of swords rang out in the air, metal grating against metal. Minutes passed by and the fighting continued. Achilles was the superior swordsman but the stranger fought hard, his energy and passion, spurring him on to attack faster; his work with a blade was also quite impressive.

The sparring match started to drag, the heat of the day bearing down upon them. Both men were soaked with sweat, their hair damp and clinging to the sides of their faces and the backs of their necks. Achilles swung his sword with a grunt of exertion, knocking the stranger's sword to the side and then pressing the edge of his sword to the man's throat, breathing heavily.

"You fought well...but not well enough." He pulled the sword back and wiped sweat from his brow, sheathing his sword. "What is your name?"

The stranger walked slowly to the rack of weapons and replaced his sword while breathing heavily though otherwise not reacting. Then he turned and started out of the courtyard, saying in a clear voice, "Jason, son of Demetrios, advisor to King Odysseus.".


	11. So Right, Yet So Wrong

_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! As I said, I was going to be MIA for a couple weeks but that got longer since I had to apply for colleges to transfer to and whatnot. Still, here's a quick chapter to assure you all that I haven't forgotten you or the story! It's a bit smuttier and deserving of the M rating this story has. So...if that bothers you, skim past it._

* * *

When Jason arrived home that evening, he was tired and sweaty. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, taking off his boots as he sat at the table. His mind was racing. In a day or two's time, Briseis was going to be with him and his father and mother as they went to Odysseus' court. But now that the damned Achilles was here...she'd see him. He looked over at Briseis where she was cooking dinner. Standing up, he walked over to her and slid his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. "You know I love you, do you not?" He couldn't help the question and wished he would hear her say that she loved him as well. Instead, she turned and brushed her lips gently against his jaw, responding as she always did. "Yes, of course I know."

He sighed and stepped back. He longed to hear her say that she loved him, and yet as the days went by, he doubted that he ever would. "Are you happy with me, Briseis?" Sometimes he wondered. Now that he knew Achilles was alive, he knew the possibility of losing her was growing greater every day. Fortunately for him, Briseis avoided the other women for the most part, choosing to walk by herself or wade in the bay. But she would soon hear rumors or even see the man himself.

Briseis looked over her shoulder at Jason, noticing the way his shoulders slumped. Walking over to him while wiping her hands on a towel, she smiled down at him, "Do not look so sad." She set the towel down and tilted his chin up so she could look at him. Bending down, she kissed him. Usually she merely lightly kissed him. But not this time. He looked so sad, so tired... Perhaps she didn't appreciate everything he did for her. And seeing him look like that had actually caused her to hurt. Was it possible that she had fallen for this man? Pulling back from the kiss, she felt her lips tingling and she leaned forward to kiss him again.

She felt his arms slide around her and soon she was pressed up against his body. She didn't mind... Instead of creating feeble arguments or bringing up pointless excuses like she usually did, she merely let him coax her towards the bedroom. Inside and on the bed, she let his hands slide up her legs to her thighs. This time...this time she didn't mind. Her fingers found his belt and she undid it, helping with the process of undressing him this time. Perhaps she was too forward? Something caused him to pause and he drew back, looking down at her with a slightly confused look. She couldn't blame him. "Come, my husband..." She slid her hand to the back of his neck and kissed him again, "I love you."

With those three words, she had said something profound. She saw his brown eyes light up and a smile slide over his lips. Did she truly love him? Yes...it wasn't a burning, fiery passion but he had slowly worked his way into her heart. Obediently she let him lift her dress over her head and then moved her hands to his tunic to perform the same act. Her nails ran over his chest, feeling the muscles she had never really paid attention to before. The dark smattering of hair over his chest was masculine...enticing. She ran her fingers slowly down his chest, over his stomach and then back up again. How had she never noticed how he was built?

Suddenly she gasped in both surprise and pleasure. His fingers had located the heat between her legs and were now teasing her with dips and strokes against her. Pressing nearer, she responded in kind by moving one hand down to his hard erection, wrapping her fingers about him. The deep, throaty moan that slid from his lips was rather wonderful. Focusing was getting difficult and when he moved her hand and shifted his, she felt him shifting on top of her and then she felt a wonderful fullness. Perhaps she should have let herself enjoy this more often instead of wishing he'd get it over with. It really was very nice...

Pleasure. It overtook her and she felt numb from the waist down. It felt like something she had only experienced with Achilles... Breathing heavily, she glanced up at him. He looked remarkably pleased with himself – it was entertaining. She kissed him before leaning back against the bed. She felt very happy as she lay with her husband that night.

Achilles was unable to sleep that night. He lay in his bed, tossing and turning while staring up at the ceiling. Something felt wrong. Something felt off. He stood up and walked to the door after grabbing his clothes and pulling them on. Outside, he ran his hand through his hair. He still felt unsettled by the meeting with that man earlier. Something didn't sit right with him. He didn't like it. Sighing, he decided to go for a walk. The cool night air that surrounded the island would settle him, right? He was walking out on the balcony for some ten minutes before realizing that he wasn't alone.

Startled, he turned around and glanced over at Penelope. The tall willowy woman walked forward. She was an elegant woman, with thick dark hair that was thinly strewn with silver. Her eyes were a deep blue and full of compassion as she looked at him. "Having trouble sleeping, Achilles?" Her voice was a soft, smooth tone, rich and warm. It was soothing, which was what he needed right now.

"Yes... I feel like something is wrong, but I cannot figure out what is going on. I can't sleep. Something is wrong." He crossed his arms over his chest and gazed out over the ocean. Unsettled and uneasy, he shifted his weight from one leg to another.

Penelope studied him quietly before saying, "You should go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be the feast where Odysseus' advisors come to court and you'll be expected to be there. Plus there's a very lovely young woman I want you to meet and before you argue, don't bother." She smiled calmly, "Now go rest and worry about tomorrow's problems tomorrow. You cannot do anything tonight." Achilles nodded. There was something very difficult about ignoring what Penelope said. She had such a calm, relaxed nature and yet was very firm, leaving little room for argument. But she had sound advice...so he turned and walked back towards his bed chambers. Tomorrow he would work things out...tonight he would sleep.


	12. Reunion

_Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to write. I wanted to get this chapter done right as it is a very key point in the story and so I ended up rewriting it several times. In the end, I cut it a bit short but don't worry - the next chapter will come much quicker! Comments really do inspire me to write so please, comment!_

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* * *

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Briseis stood in front of the small mirror, studying her reflection. She hadn't bothered to look at herself in the mirror for a long time and now that she did, she was surprised. Her hair was much longer than it used to be and was thick and luxurious. While she had been living on Lathos, she hadn't had many opportunities to use the fine perfumes and oils to smooth her hair out but here she had... It made a difference. She was still slender and the dark red dress fell perfectly around her curves, accenting them. The loose black sash hung around her hips, giving form to the dress. All in all, she looked rather well.

"Come, Briseis..."

Jason's voice tugged her out of her staring and she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Yes?"

He smiled, "If you look at yourself much longer, you'll be no better than the story of Narcissus... Men a'plenty will be staring at you tonight; you need not do it for them."

She laughed and turned from the mirror, walking to the door. "You flatter me too much," she chided a bit playfully as they exited their home. Jason merely smiled and took her hand to help her up the pathway to the King's palace. Briseis gazed up at the palace in some amount of awe. While her uncle's palace in Troy had been impressive, it was nothing like the mountain palace of Odysseus.

The entire building was built with white stone, smoothed and shaped into high arching ceilings and doorways. Richly colored tapestries depicting heroic scenes hung from the walls, finely crafted and beautifully designed. The floors were a smooth, almost glossy stone, as if the rock had been polished excessively. High class men and ladies stood in assembly, all dressed in the finest of clothes. While Briseis had been used to this sort of thing in her uncle's court, she had been away from luxury and richness for so long that now it almost seemed foreign to her.

A sense of relief washed over her when Jason leaned close to her and whispered softly in her ear, "They all look like quail stuffed within an inch of their lives." His sense of humor, never failing to make her smile, had the desired effect of relaxing her. She went to stand with Jason, waiting for the king and his entourage to arrive. She wasn't sure how she felt about this – Odysseus had attacked her family and her city and country...now she was living in his country and standing in his palace. Would he recognize her? Would he even realize that he had destroyed her life for a long time?

Trumpets sounded.

The king was entering.

Odysseus entered first, dressed in splendid robes of midnight blue, lined with rich gold hued fabric. His wife, Penelope was dressed in a similar color though hers was lined with silver instead of gold. The gathered assembly cheered, clearly full of love for their king and queen. Behind them, an impossibly tall, broad-shouldered man stood. Half hidden by shadows, Briseis could not make out his face, yet there was something familiar about him. She straightened up a bit to try and get a closer look, though in a moment, the king and queen stepped forward and with them, the tall man.

Her heart stopped as she stared.

Brilliant blue eyes. A mane of golden hair to his shoulders. Strong jaw and cheek bones. Lifted chin. Broad shoulders. One hand rested on his sword, long fingers curling around the hilt. How many times had Briseis dreamed of this face? Of this man? She felt dizzy and uneasily, she put out a hand to try and steady herself but found herself grasping nothing but air. Off balance, she stumbled to the side before her conscious mind gave out all together and she passed out in a black stupor. The last thing she could remember was Jason crouching over her and heavy footsteps coming closer.

* * *

Odysseus was trying to calm down Achilles. Considering that the man stood almost a head taller than him and was built like an ox, this was understandably difficult. Two men stood nearby, waiting to step in if needed. By the door stood Jason, brown eyes dark with rage and his entire body rigid with anger. His lips were sealed however.

After Briseis had fainted, the entire assembly had turned to look, including Odysseus, Penelope and Achilles. Then the trouble had begun. Achilles had rushed over, in shock, ready to take control. But Jason hadn't allowed him near her. That was when Achilles had hit Jason and chaos had ensued. Penelope had taken Briseis to the queen's own private chambers and settled her on the bed. The men had gone off to another room where Odysseus had tried to calm down his friend. It wasn't working.

Finally, Achilles took a step back and lifted his hands in a defensive gesture as if to say that he would back down. Odysseus stepped back warily and motioned to the guards, having them leave the room. He didn't know what was going to follow but he was certain that it was going to be unpleasant. Sure enough, as soon as the guards left the room, Achilles started yelling, accusing Jason of the foulest of things, of stealing Briseis...but now Jason was not quiet any longer.

"She wasn't yours! She was recreating a life without you in it and she was happy! She is happy! She loves me. You lost your chance...now leave her alone and leave us alone."

There were only three words that Achilles heard in all of that: she loves me. His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, his jaw tensed with anger, "You know nothing of who she loves. How dare you assume that she –"

"She told me that she loved me." Jason's voice had shifted to something colder, sharper, almost mocking Achilles. Triumph shone in his dark brown eyes as he lifted his chin slightly higher, "She said that she loved me. So think – do you really wish to kill a man she truly loves?" Playing with fire...that was what Jason was doing. He knew that Achilles must still love Briseis and was praying to the gods that Achilles wouldn't strike him down due to how Briseis felt. It was a risk; it was a gamble...it worked.

Achilles took a step back. "I want to see her," he said, his voice low and still a threatening tone. Odysseus glanced from one man to another and then back to Jason, "Perhaps it would be best. We still honor your marriage, of course, but he is allowed to see her."

This arrangement clearly didn't please Jason but who was he to argue with the king? "As long as I'm there as well," Jason clarified, his eyes shifting back to Achilles.

Odysseus nodded wearily – this was more of a mess than he knew what to deal with.

In the queen's chambers, Briseis found herself slowly regaining consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and she realized that the queen herself was sitting near the bed. Briseis' eyes widened and she tried to sit up but Penelope put a hand on her shoulder and gently pressed her back down, "Nay, do not worry yourself about how you appear. There are two men who wish to see you – your husband and Achilles. One word from you and I will send them away however. What do you wish to do?"

Briseis closed her eyes and sank back against the bed, speaking quietly, "Keep them away...I cannot see them yet."


	13. Author's Note

_Author's Note_: To all my faithful readers and reviewers, thank you so much for your continuous support and feedback! I wish I could be posting a chapter update, but due to the fact that I'm transferring to a new college while trying to finish up with finals at my old college, I'm really strapped for time. I do have good news though! Expect a chapter update this Saturday at the _very_ latest! I'm almost done with the next chapter and I really like how it's going. Again, thank you so much for all your support. I wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't for all you.


	14. Living Without

Briseis had been staying away from everyone. Penelope had taken her to the smaller, southern palace and it was there, surrounded by trees and the ocean and away from the two men that Briseis was trying to put all the pieces of her life together. She hadn't spoken at all since she had realized that Achilles was alive. She felt a deep longing for him and still couldn't believe that he was alive. She wanted to know everything that had transpired. She wanted to be held by him...

But she also missed Jason...she missed how calm everything was him and how simply he adored her. He had fallen for her without needing thrill – he loved her when she was at the bottom of her life...he had loved her when she was nothing. And he was her husband.

Idly, she brushed her fingertips along the flowers that were blooming in one of the fields. It was peaceful here and she both craved peace and hated it. While she was able to be alone, it was that aloneness that caused her to constantly think of the two men that had come back into her life. Penelope had explained what had happened to Achilles – the near death, the way he had been saved, how he had searched everywhere for her...

He had never given up on her but she had given up on him, though in her defense, she had thought him dead. Sinking down into the grass, she buried her face in her hands. No matter what she did, someone would be badly hurt. The question was who she could take hurting more and who she could live her life without. A nagging voice in the back of her head reminded her that she had already learned how to live without Achilles.

She plucked the flower and twirled it in her fingers while staring at it. If only she had known Achilles was alive...if only she had known that she would have to choose between the two men she loved. Because yes, she did love Jason. Didn't she?

"Briseis?"

The soothing voice of Penelope broke through her thoughts and Briseis looked up at the older woman with a faint smile. During the time she had been living at the palace, Penelope had been her constant companion and friend. This was a good thing...without Penelope, Briseis would have been completely lost. The woman didn't pressure her to make a choice between either man. Rather, she pushed Briseis to make the choice that would ensure her happiness. The problem of her marriage, however, had not yet been addressed.

If she was thinking of her marriage as a problem, did that mean she should be with Achilles?

"Dinner is served," Penelope said in her low sweet voice, "Come. You must eat." She reached down a hand to coax Briseis up and the younger woman reluctantly stood. Despite not having an appetite, she knew that Penelope wouldn't relent until Briseis had eaten something. Upon that point, the Queen of PLACE was adamant: Briseis would take care of herself.

Walking back to the palace with the woman, Briseis sighed slightly, "Have they continued to try and see me?"

There was no need to specify who the 'they' were. Everyone knew. Achilles and Jason came every day to try and see her...Achilles was more forceful about it and it was only when she had begged him to stay away and give her peace that he had given up using force. Only for her, he had said. Only for her...everything had been for her.

"Jason left a letter for you...I let the servants put it in your room but if you do not wish to see it, I will have them remove it." Penelope glanced down at Briseis as she spoke, smiling a bit, "A letter is a much more civil way of reaching you. They seem to be improving in that manner at least."

Briseis hesitated – a letter meant listening, in a way, to what Jason had to say. In a way, she was relieved that Achilles hadn't written...she was scared of what he would say. Sitting down inside at the grand table by Penelope's side, Briseis took a long sip of her wine. "What do you think I should do? Read it?"

"It might help you make a decision."

Briseis looked down at her plate and nodded slightly, "Yes...I wish Achilles had written one so I might compare the two."

Penelope failed to conceal an amused laugh, "My sweet Briseis, I can hardly imagine Achilles putting ink to paper... Could you?"

For a moment, Briseis tried to picture Achilles writing a letter. Even she almost laughed for the first time in a long time. "No...if he were to write a letter, it would be written as a command. 'Talk to me.'"

More laughter. It was good to laugh.

However, soon it faded as another thought occurred to Briseis.

"What would I do as Achilles' wife? He is a warrior and leads a warrior's life. He would not be happy as a simple farmer or trader..." She looked down at her plate, stirring the rich food around slowly, "Would I be able to be the wife he needs? He needs a warrior for a wife... He should seek one of the Amazon women."

Penelope smiled at her, "My dear, things would work out. And if it is a warrior he needs, then I believe you would become one. My beloved taught me how to wield a sword in case I ever need to defend myself. You have a warrior's spirit, Briseis...perhaps you should have been a priestess of Athena. You and she are very much alike."

The idea of being a warrior had never occurred to Briseis. But then, had she not fought, merely in a different way? However, she would not be able to kill anyone...would she?

She was silent the rest of the way through dinner and excused herself soon after so that she could be alone in her room...alone with that letter that was waiting for her. Making her way up the winding stone staircase to her room, Briseis shut the door quietly behind her and then glanced at the bed. There it rested. She walked over to it and picked up the parchment, unfolding it gently and reading it slowly and silently.

_My dearest Briseis, _

_I know that you do not wish to see me which is why I have written in hopes that you will accept this letter. I wanted to apologize if I've made things harder on you or acted in any way that would hurt you. You are an amazing woman and the time we have had together has been the happiest of my life. However, I know that you love another man, and I am a selfish man, Briseis... I cannot share you with someone else. So if it is your choice to be with Achilles, please know that I will release you from this marriage...I only hope that you will choose to be with me._

_~ Jason_

Briseis' eyes grew teary and she folded the letter gently. Of course Jason would let her go if she chose...he was so selfless. It was heartbreaking. What was she supposed to do? Looking up, she wiped her eyes and then tossed the letter onto the pillow. She stood up and headed out of the room, walking silently down into the dining hall. Taking her place next to Penelope, Briseis glanced over at her, "Jason says that he will let me free from our marriage if I wish to be with Achilles..."

Penelope arched one delicate eyebrow, "And is that what you wish?" When Briseis didn't answer, Penelope smiled a bit faintly, "My dear, perhaps you should not be asking yourself who you wish to be with, but rather, who you can live without..."


	15. Decisions

His warm hands slid over her thighs, coaxing them apart. She could feel the hot hardness of his male arousal against the skin right beneath her navel. A thrill of excitement ran through her and she hesitantly moved her legs around his waist. The feeling of his lips against her neck and collar bone. The calloused touch of his hands on her hips. She moaned his name, clung to him as he entered her...

Briseis awoke with a start and looked around in confusion. The dream had been so real...if only she knew which man's face – but she knew who it had been. She knew the touch of those hands. Knew the caress of his lips. Standing up, she drew her robes close around her and walked to the balcony. For two days she had agonized. On this day, the third day, she felt like she had made her decision. It had broken her heart and yet...yet it was the right one.

She stared out over the ocean with a pale face, her eyes dark and large. How was she supposed to tell him that she had made her decision? That her heart belonged to another? Tears welled up in her eyes and she hugged her arms around her before turning and walking back into the palace. While she bathed, her mind drifted away from her. Memories of their time together...wonderful memories...painful memories.

Penelope came into the room and glanced over as Briseis was dressed by the chamber maids. "Have you made your decision?" The woman's voice was low and soft, yet undeniably curious.

Briseis supposed that she couldn't blame her. After all, it had been Penelope who had stood by her side as she tried to reason her way through this matter of the heart. Who could she live without. That had been the question posed to her and it was that question she had struggled with. Hadn't she already lived without Achilles? But could she do it again? Let him go free from her life, knowing he was alive? And Jason...her sweet Jason...

"Yes, I have... I will send a messenger asking them to meet me in one of the private chambers of the palace this evening before dinner." Briseis smoothed a brush through her hair, chin lifted. She was done with being a weak and wavering woman. She was born of royal blood. She had been raised to be strong. And she knew what she wanted and had been too scared to take.

"You have changed," Penelope said smoothly and calmly, "Yet I feel as if this is the change that has brought you back to yourself. Your eyes – they are shining for the first time in a great length of time. She walked over to Briseis, gently starting to braid the thick brown locks. "You are a brave woman, Briseis, and a wise one. You will make the right decision."

Briseis stared at her reflection. Tendrils of curly brown hair tumbled loosely around her face, though most of it was caught up in an elegantly braided knot high off her neck. She looked regal...and scared. But at the same time, confident. This was the decision that was right. Her heart, her mind, her soul knew that it was.

When the messenger arrived at the palace, he went to find Jason. It would be easier that way then to face Achilles lest whatever was in the note was not pleasing. Handing it off to Jason, the messenger then beat a hasty retreat.

Jason read the letter quickly and then took a deep breath. Standing up, he glanced at one of the palace servants. "Tell Achilles that Briseis wishes to see us in the chamber overlooking the ocean. She will meet us there in half an hour." The servant moved off hurriedly and Jason began walking towards the chamber. His heart was pounding and he felt like his breathing was being constricted by some invisible force. Was he going to lose or regain his wife? Would this meeting rebuild or shatter his heart? Pushing the door open, he stepped quietly inside. He stood; he would be standing when she came in. Minutes started dragging by. The door opened...

Achilles was not a man of restraint. He took what he wanted without asking anyone permission or asking questions. And yet here he was now...stuck, waiting for someone else to make a decision. Waiting for someone else to make a decision so important that it would affect the rest of his life... He hated it. Had it been anyone else, he would have left by now. Would have said that it wasn't worth the trouble and the pain he was going through. But this was Briseis. She was worth the world to him. Jason was lucky that he meant something to Briseis...if his death wouldn't hurt her hurt, Achilles would have killed the man already and be done with it.

The servant seemed scared when they came to deliver the message. Achilles had nodded and then sent the man away. No point in getting dramatic. With a cold determination, he walked to the chamber. Would Briseis already be there or would that man be there instead? Anger filled his dark blue eyes as he pushed the door open and came face to face with the shorter man. A low, almost animalistic, grunt passed from Achilles' lips – that was as much as he'd do for a greeting. He received an icily cold nod in return. Clasped his hands behind his back. Waited.

When Briseis entered, both man lifted their heads to look at her. One set of dark blue eyes; one set of deep brown. She was scared and yet empowered by the decision she had finally made. Once past this hard part, she could see her future unfolding...one of light and sun and warmth. She looked first to Jason and then to Achilles before saying in a calm, quiet voice, "I am sorry that my indecision has hurt you both. Yet I could not have made this decision without thinking this through carefully. My love for both of you is not to be questioned...but it is how I love the both of you that determined who I chose."

She took a deep breath and then continued, "I will not waste words for I will surely only cause you more pain..." A deep breath. "There is only one man I have ever belonged with in this world...and that scared me. I didn't want to accept it... I am truly sorry, Jason...our time was wonderful, but I think even you know that I have always belonged with Achilles. He is the sun of my world. I cannot live without him – when I tried to, my world was cast into shadow..." Her steps brought her to Achilles' side. "I am sorry."

Her voice was shaking and as she gazed upon Jason's heartbroken, pale face, she felt as if she would collapse. Strong arms wrapped around her and she felt herself being drawn up against a man whose touch she knew as well as her own.

Agony. Jason stared at Briseis, held tight in the arms of Achilles. Despair. He turned sharply, leaving the room. His words were choked back by inexplicable pain of loss. Sheer, unadulterated hurt. He walked like a man blinded. Everything good and lovely in the world seemed dashed upon the rocks, shattered till there was nothing...not even the slimmest chance of hope. Everything was spiraling downwards. He couldn't think. He didn't want to...he just wanted everything to end...to stop this pain before it consumed him.

Yet this is where Jason's part in the story ends in this narrative. For as in life, not everything is wrapped up neatly like a present. Not everyone finds a happy ending. This story has been about two lovers separated by an ocean and a death...reunited, this is where we have been traveling to.

Achilles swept Briseis up in his arms, one large hand on the back of her neck as he kissed her. Never mind that the door was ajar and anyone could look in. Briseis felt herself pulled into the almost crushing embrace of her lover and sank up against him willingly. The joy that swept through her was unlike anything she had ever experienced. This was her Achilles...she would be with her lion till the gods called them home.


	16. Epilogue

_- Epilogue -_

Achilles had told her that Odysseus would allow her family to come to Ithaca. Hours after she had been reunited with Achilles on the balcony, the king's fastest ships had set sail to Lathos. Was it too good to be true? The knowledge that she would be reunited with those she had left behind brought joy to Briseis' heart. When the ships had finally returned safely to harbor, Briseis had shed all semblance of dignity and rushed to greet them. Paris, Helen, their child, her friends – everyone. There had been tears of joy, excited laughs and finally, thanks to Odysseus as he had welcomed them to the island, proclaiming this a safe place for them.

The wedding had followed shortly. It was not a lavish affair but it was everything Briseis had dreamed off. Achilles hadn't wanted anyone else there but she had insisted that their family (mostly hers) and friends (again, mostly hers) be there. Yet there had been Eudorus, pale eyes proud as he watched his master take a wife. Odysseus was smirking and Penelope's gentle face played host to a warm smile as well.

That night, as she lay naked in Achilles' arms, she felt a smile drifting over her lips. She couldn't sleep... Joy and excitement ran wildly through her body. The life she had always dreamt of was slowly being formed. On this night, their wedding night, she couldn't sleep! Shamelessly, she thought to herself that she didn't want to.

"Beloved, if you keep shifting and moving like that, I can promise you that I'll have you on your back in seconds." Achilles' gruff, sleep-filled voice cut through Briseis' fantasies of the life she and Achilles would have. She smothered a laugh by kissing him. A low throaty sound came from the back of his throat as he rolled over on top of her, his large body hovering above hers. Even in the dark, she could see those two deep blue eyes gazing down at her. Then he was kissing her again and she let herself go completely.

In the darkness, Briseis heard him say that he loved her and with utter delight, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him slowly.

"I love you too."


	17. The End Author's Notes

I would like to say a heartfelt thanks to all my amazing readers. To those of you who have been with me from the beginning (you know who you are!), I want to thank you for all the encouragement and support you've given me. Without you, "the Lion" would never have been completed. To all of those who started reading along the way, thanks for joining in and adding to the awesome support. You guys have all seriously been amazing and hopefully you'll read my next story too! It will be centered on the movie "Inception" which is seriously fabulous. I highly recommend watching it if you haven't!

If you have any requests for one-shots or even for longer stories, please feel free to email me at: itsangelbetch aol. com (just without the spaces!)

Again, thanks for reading! It's been so much fun.


	18. Sequel it's on!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Due to the massive popularity of this story and requests for a sequel, I'm pleased to announce that there will be a "Part 2" of THE LION. Expect it to be out before Christmas! As always, thank you for the support and if you have anything you'd like to see in the sequel, let me know!


	19. 1st Chptr of The Lioness uploaded now!

_Author's Notes_: _well, here it is, a bit short but they'll get longer. Took me long enough, right? What with college, my brother's wedding and several other life interferences (which caused me to actually lose what I had written thus far, this has taken awhile! But here it is. "The Lioness" starts a year after Briseis and Achilles were reunited and things aren't completely smooth sailing for them. Also complicating matters is the interference of the gods, who do not approve of a near-immortal such as Achilles being with a mortal. Down the line expect to see Briseis kicking some ass, Achilles fighting some inner demons and the appearance of Eros, the Love God, who is struggling with his own romantic fascinations towards a mortal woman. It's going to be fun._

* * *

Steel on steel. It was a sound the Briseis had grown accustomed to in her year of marriage with Achilles. The shriek of a blade as it was pulled from its sheath no longer grated on her nerves as it had before, and instead of shrinking away from watching Achilles spar with his men, Briseis now took pleasure in watching him fight. Her eyes traced along the golden muscular contours of his body, drinking in the sight before her eyes. A smirk drifted over her lips as she caught his eye for a split second. She swore she saw a smirk come over his own lips before he spun around and slammed the hilt of his sword into the shield of his sparring partner, sending the man stumbling back. Sensing the opportunity to strike, Achilles swung the sword down against the shield again, knocking him back against the ground.

The look of arrogant pride in Achilles' eyes caused Briseis to shake her head as if in dismissal but when he came towards her, she tilted her head up towards him. "My lion…you will be leaving soon, I fear." Her voice was quiet and her fingers deft as she slid them over his arms. "Leaving me home with the other women, again?" Her eyebrows arched slightly as if daring him to say otherwise. In their time being married, Briseis had learned that her husband could not stay at home for long. It was not simply his skill in battle that called him away to settle violent disputes between neighboring countries and cities…it was his need for battle that caused him to go when called.

Still, Briseis would never dream of stopping him. It was his life and she had learned that trying to convince him not to go did not ever work. Instead, she busied herself when he was gone, though perhaps not in the most ladylike pastime. In an effort to understand what drew her husband to the sword and battle, Briseis had begun to acquaint herself with the weapons in the armory. She had become particularly deft with a bow, finding that the weapon felt supple and strong in her hands. It gave her something to do with her hands and her life as well. While she could have spent her time in court, Jason was there and despite the year that had passed, his dark gaze still cut her soul like knives.

So she spent her time in the armory or in a field practicing. No one questioned it. Briseis assumed that it was because of who she was married to. For one thing, no one would dare raise their voice to her for fear that they would bring Achilles' wrath down upon them. And for another, she was the wife to a warrior. She supposed it made sense that she would know how to use weapons as well.

"Leaving, yes…but I'll be back in time," Achilles said, deep voice rumbling out like a lion's growl. Briseis was used to the gruffness of his tone around the other men. It was his way of continuing to be intimidating while near her and near his men at the same time. She merely nodded and then shrugged a bit, "And whose battle are you fighting this time?" "Scyros is having some trouble with barbarians…" HE trailed off, looking over Briseis' shoulder. Briseis looked as well at the men who were watching them before back up at Achilles, whose blue eyes were narrowed in their direction. Instantly, everyone looked away and Achilles pulled her closer in his arms. The tight grasp and the feeling of his flexing muscles caused Briseis to smirk a bit, "I should have known."

His lips were close to hers now and she found her breath deepening. As always, his presence caused shivers to run down her spine and when he crushed his lips against hers in a firm kiss, Briseis practically melted up against him.

They only broke apart when sound of Odysseus chuckling reached them. Achilles lifted his head and smirked a bit at Odysseus. "Come down from your palace to practice in the arena?" Odysseus shook his head, kissed Briseis' hand in greeting and then glanced at Achilles, "I wouldn't want to beat you in front of your wife. No, I've come to tell you that your men are prepared to leave whenever you are. I came myself because I wanted to see you off…" He trailed off and glanced at Briseis, whose eyes were lifted ever so slightly in Achilles' direction. "I see your fair bride did not know you would be leaving so soon." Briseis shook her head slightly, chin lifting.

"No, that he failed to mention."

She stepped back, dark eyes lingering on Achilles' as if waiting for an explanation. Yet he didn't give one and she wasn't surprised. The silence lingered for a long moment and then Odysseus said quietly, "I'll leave you two then and see you at the docks." Briseis watched the king of Ithaca walk away before turning back to Achilles with narrowed eyes. He met her gaze with a quiet one of her own, "I didn't want to disappoint you." She shook her head slightly, "You should prepare for your journey…"

Then Briseis turned sharply and walked back to their large comfortable home. Achilles didn't come after her, for which Briseis was thankful and annoyed at all at once. She loved him, and knew he loved her…but lately they had been struggling to keep the romance together. The passion of their reunion had left them to the reality of making a life of marriage work when they spent half of their time apart. It was wearing them down slowly. Their nights were passionate, spent in heated desire between the sheets of the bed…but when the day came, it left them back with their struggling marriage.

Sitting down on a cushioned seat, Briseis gazed out the window. She could see her lion pacing back and forth, agitated from the way he was walking. Let him be agitated. He should have told her that he had to leave today. Penelope walked in and glanced over at Briseis, "From the look on your face, I can see that you and Achilles are still going through the trials of figuring out married life." She sat down next to the younger woman, touching her chin lightly, "It's not easy. But you two do love each other – the gods would not have brought you back to each other if it was not meant to be."

Briseis narrowed her eyes slightly, "He is just such a frustrating being! I do not believe he knows how to communicate except through the sword." Penelope laughed a bit, "A tendency with warriors. But the point is, you will learn to be with him… Until then, do not let your back be the last thing he sees of you." Briseis frowned and then sighed. Penelope was right. The ups and downs in her and Achilles' marriage was mostly due to their stubborn temperaments…but at the end of the day, it was her that Achilles came home to.

So she stood to prepare to see Achilles off…and pray to the gods that he would come back safely so they could continue to work on their marriage.


End file.
